I took Oliver to the vet for the first time ever in all the years I've owned him. And after I got the bill, I think I must table the plans I had to install hardwood floors in the loft. Oh, tis life.
He screwed up his tail somehow and had an infection so bad I gasped when the vet shaved his tail down to show me huge gaping infected holes. And now, he must wear the cone of shame.
I have nothing much to report. I've been home for a week, my place is still a disaster area of boxes. And for the first in a long long time, I'm going to be home in LA for more than three weeks. I love my new place still. I love the loft. I love being able to show people the place even if it's littered with crap from my past lives.
My life now consists of me walking zombie like through IKEA, pricing out wood flooring in the middle of the night at Home Depot, and programming parking garage door openers.
It's a very sexy and awesome life. I've never been happier.
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